Coming Home
by WriteyWrite
Summary: Modern Merlin AU and Mergana. When Camelot fell, only Merlin was left. He was alone and broken. Waiting on a prophecy that failed him. But Arthur has returned, releasing a new evil with his return. She wants her revenge. Trigger warning for self harm, drug abuse, suicidal thoughts, and mild-harsh language. Please read with caution.
1. Prologue

For thousands of years, I have sat across from this lake. My heart aches as I remember my friends. The fallen warriors I have come to love through the never ending heartache.

I have watched empires rise and fall. I have seen wars of greater brutality than the one that killed my beloved kingdom, my home.

And now, I sit across from this lake, the watery grave of my king.

He never came. The prophecy was false. When Camelot was falling, he never returned. As his queen died, as the knights fell, as the kingdom fell into ruin, he remained asleep in his grave.

I longed for an end to the pain. I desperately cried out for an end. Why must I live while everyone I hold dear fades into the bliss of death?

No matter how many ways I tried to release myself to the bliss of Avalon, I could not. Magic would always find a way to heal me and force me into a life I did not want.

I watched kingdoms fall. I watched wars arrive. I watched lives end.

And I could do nothing but watch, helpless, useless, worthless.

I was not free. I was trapped in this hellish world called home.

But then, the drugs came.

I knew I shouldn't. I knew it. But the promise of bliss, the ability to forget was well worth it. For me, it was a way to survive.

The drugs let me fall into forgetfulness when the memories became too much. It helped me find peace when the blood dripping from my arms couldn't.

The drugs set me free when the promise of his return could not.

I suppressed my magic, desperate to erase any connection to Camelot and my past while still holding onto relics from the kingdom. I couldn't let go. The stories of my youth trapped me, forcing me to remain in wait for him.

I was desperate for an end. I couldn't live with this for much longer.


	2. Chapter 1

Staring at my arms, looking at the track marks and scars from blades both ancient and modern, I felt a powerful magic bubble, something I had not felt in a long time.

The familiar presence of a skill unused tugged at my heart and for the first time in thousands of years, I let my magic free. The earth around me responded in kind, flowers blooming and grass growing in the hard, dead earth.

Arthur was here.

I stood at the edge of the lake.

He was coming. He was coming. For the first time in thousands of years, I would see the man who changed my life forever. I walked closer in anxious anticipation for the moment I had dreamed of but had never seen.

The clothes I wore today weren't unlike the ones that I had in Camelot. Arthur would need something familiar.

Unfortunately, the castle had long since been handed over to movie companies for filming so the option of traveling to what had once been Camelot was unavailable.

I made a house in the woods. It was my project and I spent months working on it, making sure that the electric and plumbing systems worked. While it was nothing compared to the grandeur of Camelot, but it was as close to home as I could make it. The apartment I had rented across the street had since been converted into storage for relics from the past and my unfortunate addictions. Arthur wouldn't be told of these. I couldn't allow it.

The house that I would soon share was where he would stay. There, I could educate him on the ways of this new world until he was able to go out and blend in. It had everything we needed. There was electricity, plumbing, heating, and a decently sized garden. It was something that was completely self-sufficient.

When I wasn't babysitting, I would be working. I had found a quiet bookshop close to my apartment that paid decently. The smell of books, both old and new, was something that would forever remind me of the archives of Camelot.

I woke from my sleep when the water of the lake began to bubble. I rushed to the edge, prepared to do whatever necessary to aid my king.

A blond head rose above the water, then armored shoulders, then the torso, and finally, my king was staring right at me.

"Arthur!" I cried, tears forming in my eyes as I tried to force them back.

"Merlin?" He sounded confused. "What are you doing here? Why am I in a lake?"

I couldn't talk. I rushed forwards and wrapped him in a hug. I didn't care what anyone thought. He was my best friend and I hadn't seen him in thousands of years.

"Are you crying?" he asked.

"Shut up. It's been a while."

To my surprise, he hugged back, his hand uncertainly patting my back.

"Come on, let's get you home."

"Camelot?" I froze.

"No, Arthur," I said gently. "Camelot has fallen. You've been dead for thousands of years. I'm taking you to my home."

The gate had opened. She smirked as she saw her opportunity. Finally, escape. She knew the going-on's of this new world. Finally, she would complete her mission. She would put an end to Emrys and his precious king.

She would finally rule.


	3. Chapter 2

AN: TW for drug use. I will italicize the section it's in.

Arthur was bubbling with questions as we walked into the small house I had built. 'Why is it doing that?' 'Is it magic? ' 'What happened to your magic? ' 'Is it gone? Do you still have it? ' 'How does this work? ' 'Just one push will instantly make food?' 'How does this lever connect to that light? '

I, on the other hand, was not in the mood for questions. Yes, I had missed him greatly, but was it really that hard for him to just shut up for a few minutes while I showed him around?

Eventually, the questions stopped and the tour was finished.

"Come on, Arthur, I've got to show you the basics of this new world. It's not like Camelot."

"Why? It shouldn't matter if I follow the new world."

"Yes, I know, Arthur, but there are some basic things that you should probably know before heading out in the modern world. First being that electricity is not magic. So when you see a light turn on, a car start to run, almost everything in the new world, don't start screaming "Sorcery!""

"That was my father. Not me."

"Arthur! Just shut up and listen please!"

The first challenge was getting this stupid cabbage head to understand that the world had changed, that things like honor, and a knight's word were no longer as valued as they had been in Camelot's time. He was upset, to say the least.

"What do you mean? How can they not value the honor behind keeping one's word?"

"Arthur, I mean exactly that. People are skeptical these days. They don't trust as easily even if the other party is in a position of authority. A lot of things have happened while you were gone. The world's a different place."

"But honor, and the knight's code? What is wrong with these people if they do not value the honor of each other and themselves?"

"Arthur. Please. Maybe I should just buy you a bunch of books on the history of everything's that happened since you died."

"Would I be able to understand them?"

"I don't know! Language has changed but it uses the same roots and stuff as Camelot."

Yeah... I was getting grumpy. I hadn't watched blood drip from my arms or felt the cool liquid run through my veins since this morning while I was waiting for him. Withdrawal would come soon and if I didn't find a way to escape him, he'd find out even with his horrible observational skills.

Yea. Let's just get him the books.

"Arthur! Come on. Change into some of the clothes in your closet. We're gonna go shopping for books so you can educate yourself."

He mumbled from his room where he had retreated to familiarize himself with the house and came out wearing a red v-neck t-shirt and some jeans.

"Merlin, we're going to need different pants. These are way too tight." I looked and they weren't. But then again, his clothes from Camelot were meant more for increasing range of motion and not so much as style.

I sighed. "Come on you prat. I'm taking you to the bookstore so you can meet my employer and find books to teach you about this world. Then, I'm making the stupid decision to leave you here while I go pick up some things that you might like."

I walked into the bookstore and was instantly greeted by a black haired lady.

"Hello, Merlin!" she said cheerily. "Who's your friend?"

"Cynthia, this is Arthur. Arthur, this is Cynthia, my boss." Arthur, thank the gods, was polite and not confused at her offer for a hand shake. Though, I don't think Cynthia expected the forearm grasp that was so common in Camelot. Not a problem though. Cynthia was used to all kinds of weirdness and strange oddities.

"Cynthia, I'm just gonna show him to the non-fiction section. He's rather interested in a broad variety of topics."

"Alright. Just be careful. I think the screws have come loose on some of these bookcases."

"Thanks!" And with that, we headed to the back of the store.

"Arthur, just pick out some books on history, maybe science, and if you want, maybe some about pop culture." He wandered off and I went to the storage room where old, ancient books were. They weren't on display but if you knew what you wanted, Cynthia offered them at a high price. They were hard to come by, after all. I searched through the ancient tomes looking for something that would remind me of long nights with Gaius researching for something that might help us.

Cynthia came into the storage room, "Arthur's got an entire armload of books and is ready to pay if you're done looking through these books."

"Thank you. I'll be out in a moment."

I paid for the books and walked with Arthur out the door.

I left Arthur at the house in his room and prepared some food for him in the kitchen. God knows how much he eats.

I walked across the street to my apartment. 'I'm here for Arthur's belongings,' I thought to myself. But I knew it wasn't true. I needed something. God. The drugs. Oh gods above. I knew I shouldn't. But I also knew what withdrawal was like and there was no way that I was going to experience it again, let alone when Arthur was here.

I grabbed Arthur's cloak and Gwen's ring. I had kept it along with the seal and their crowns. Though I wouldn't be bringing those back.

 _ **I passed the safe on the way out the door and knew instantly that no matter how much I tried to resist, I would never be able to get free from it. But part of me didn't want to.**_

 _ **I grabbed my keys out of my pocket and quickly located the correct one. I unlocked the safe and pulled out a spoon, a syringe, and the drugs. Mixing it on the spoon, I pulled a lighter out of my pocket and began to heat it. Once I was satisfied, I poured it in the syringe with some water I created. I put the syringe down as I grabbed a length of fabric from the safe. I tied it around my arm and slipped the needle into a vein, pushing the plunger down. I cleaned off my supplies and put them back into the safe while grabbing my pocket knife.**_

An evil smirk flickered across her face. She was free.

She walked across the grass, looking around at her surroundings, the hunter in her picking up every little movement.

She'd have to set up camp. Something simple, yet discreet. She couldn't let anyone know she was here. It would ruin her plans.


	4. Chapter 3

**TW for self harm. Section will be bolded**

I arrived back at the house to find Arthur in the kitchen.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"I had to go grab a few things. Here. I saved these." I handed him the cloak and ring. The cloak was faded and dusty but it was clear that it was once a thing of beauty.

"Thank you!" he said as his eyes grew wide.

"No problem."

There was something wrong with Merlin. Ever since Arthur had come back from the dead, Merlin had seemed off. Subdued almost.

Merlin had left the house for a while, he had said he needed to pick up some things, giving Arthur enough time to look around and familiarize himself with the new location.

As he wandered around the house, he came across another bedroom. It was probably Merlin's. He walked inside and looked around, surprised at the lack of belongings. An old wooden dragon figurine lay on the nightstand. He pulled open the drawer and stared at the objects within. There was a half a vial of aconite, a folded black and white photo of a group of men in helmets and uniforms, a chain with a rectangular tag hanging off of it with Merlin's name and a series of numbers engraved in it, and a scrap of old fabric that looked very similar to his neckerchief. He carefully moved the objects aside and found a familiar dagger. Arthur knew this dagger. It had originally been for Morgana but Arthur had bought a different one for her. He had given it to Merlin so he could defend himself. It was obvious that Merlin had taken excellent care of it. The blade was still balanced and sharp and it looked as if the wood had been restored if not replaced.

He placed the dagger back into the draw, shutting it once everything had been as it was before Arthur did his snooping, before exiting Merlin's room and closing the door behind him. He grabbed one of his many books that they had bought and went to the kitchen looking for something to eat. Once he was satisfied, he sat down and began to read, eyes glossing over as he became lost in thought.

I woke up at four in the morning, heart racing. I tried desperately to slow my breathing before getting out of bed. It's not like I'm going to be getting any more sleep. I might as well start preparing to teach Arthur. He's got a lot to learn.

I showered and dressed before heading to the kitchen despite my lack of hunger.

I sat down at the table and stared at the darkness surrounding me. As much as I hated it, there was a level of comfort that I found in the darkness. Whether or not this was a reflection of my own psyche, I honestly didn't give a damn. But I refused to go to bed after that dream. I shuddered at the thought of it. It was too early to head to work, and I was loath to leave Arthur alone to go to my apartment even if he had been fine the day before. There was no telling what I would come home to if I left Arthur alone, unable to work any of the household appliances.

My heart was still racing. I had tried my best to calm myself down but it wasn't successful. I knew only one other option but knew that I shouldn't. Gods above, I hadn't seen a therapist in ages. How would I explain to them that I had lived through both world wars, the crusades, and when I still looked like the twenty year old I had been in Camelot?

 **Groaning to myself, I walked back to my room and grabbed the pocket knife, flipping the knife out. As I rolled up my sleeves, I stared, disgusted with myself at what I had done to myself throughout the thousands of years. Almost all of my skin was scarred. But when I had no one to go to - after all, everyone I had ever cared about was dead - the only option was to cause more pain to myself. I deserved it though. I was utterly useless, watching as those around me died. I grabbed my knife and pressed into the skin of my wrist. The sharp blade split the skin easily and I watched the blood bubble up slowly.**

 **I wiped the blood away and pressed the blade into the cut, wincing at the pain. Already, I began to feel the effects of my actions. My heart rate slowed but I desperately dragged the blade across my skin several more times, getting deeper with each cut. 'I'm in control of this,' I thought to myself. When I was satisfied with what I had done, gods that sounded so awful, I cleaned the blade, bandaged my arm, and continued to wander around the house.**

Memories continued to attack me, however, and I gave in. There was no point in resisting. I knew the consequences if I tried to resist.

The sound of rifles echoed around me as I fought, dressed in my red uniform. I didn't know why we had to fight. The stupid colonies were just trouble. I felt a bullet tear through my leg and I fell to the ground. 'NO! I can't. I need to help! There are others around me that need more help than I do.' I struggled to stand, only to fall again. I watched, unable to help as my brothers fell around me. My heart ached, every death stealing just a little bit more of my humanity.

Guilt tugged at my heart as the painful memory ended. Damn it. And I had no clue what else was in store for me. I shouldn't be alive. I should've died with my brothers in that battle.

I sat in the trenches wearing my helmet and uniform. It was hot and humid and muddy. We were all miserable. But I understood the reason why they fought. It was the same reason Camelot fought Morgana for so long; for the freedom of their beliefs; so that they could live in a world that was ideal to them. I had lost my drive for an ideal world long ago. Now, with every battle I fought, I became more and more reckless. I didn't want to live. I wanted to join my loved ones. I watched as the gas began to pour into our trench. Rushing to grab our gas masks, I watched in horror as several soldiers fell to the ground, coughing up blood. They hadn't gotten to their masks in time. Damn it. I was so useless. I was such a coward. Why didn't I give up my mask for someone who needed it more? Tears stung my eyes but I forced them back as we continued fighting.

I shook myself out of the memories, shaking as I stood up from where I had slid down the wall.. It was six. I began to make breakfast and called in sick to the bookstore. Cynthia knew I was troubled to say the least, but she didn't know just how much. If I was honest, she reminded me of Gwen.

Arthur came in a few minutes later, still dressed in his night clothes and rubbing his eyes.

"Merlin. What are you doing?" he asked.

"Making breakfast," I replied. "I'll show you how to work the appliances later."

"Alright." He was probably more hungry than curious about the kitchen's machinery.

He wolfed down his meal and studied me carefully as I slowly ate mine. I guess it was more pushing the food around than eating it. After the hectic morning I had, I wasn't exactly hungry.

"Arthur, while I'm sure it's fascinating to watch me eat, maybe you could go and get changed at least before I show you how to work basic appliances." He snorted in response before heading to his room to change.

I sighed and began to clean the dishes.

Morgana smirked as she looked in her basin of water. Merlin would be an easy thing to break. Finally, revenge for abandoning her when she needed guidance most and for killing her. Arthur was easy. He was like a newborn babe in this world. She knew what to do. However, she did wish Aithusa was here. The sweet dragon held one of the highest spots in her heart.


	5. Chapter 4

"Mer-linnn. Is this really necessary?" I sighed. I had spent the last two hours showing Arthur how to work the kitchen appliances. Mainly the microwave.

"Yes, you clot pole. When I get home from work I expect the house in one piece, not burned to the ground or scattered across the forest."

"The microwave's not gonna burn the house down."

"No, but if you put the wrong items in it you could blow up the microwave. The oven could set the house on fire."

"WHAT?" I snickered at his response. "Why would you keep something like that in here?!"

"So I can heat up food without turning the oven on?"

"But what about magic?" I stiffened. I had suppressed my magic for years. The pain that had come with it was, in a way, just another way to punish myself. There were people who hadn't deserved to die because they had tried to keep my secret. I had stood, frozen in fear during the war, unable to do anything as men around me died because I didn't do anything. What was the point of having magic if I couldn't help to save just one of those boys?

"Well, if I'm not here, you need to be able to use it."

"But why would you have it?" I ignored him and continued to explain how to work the microwave.

Arthur pretended not to notice as Merlin stiffened. 'There's something wrong. I would've thought Merlin would want to talk about magic. I want to learn about it but he's shutting down. What happened to him?'

Arthur had finally gotten the basics of the appliances and was now helping me in the kitchen.

"Merlin, aren't you hungry?"

"What? Oh. I guess a little bit."

"I'm starving."

"Alright. I'll show you how to cook. You're gonna have to feed yourself while I'm at work." I lead him over to the pantry and open the door.

"Anything that's in a box or can is generally something that's simple to make. Read the labels. Some of these are ingredients and not an actual meal."

"Okay, okay. Sheesh. You act like I'm gonna eat" Arthur looked around before grabbing a can, "just plain tomato sauce."

"You've gotten in enough trouble for me to worry," I retorted back.

I grabbed a packet of ramen and walked over to the stove.

"Alright Arthur. Let's get started." I grabbed a pot and handed it to him.

"Fill this pot up with water and then put it on the stove to boil."

"Why am I doing all of this?"

"Because I need to know you won't burn the house down trying to feed yourself." We waited a few minutes for the water to boil.

"Now, open up the spice packet and pour it in the water."

Arthur opened up the spice packet and the powder burst out of it.

"Oh my god. What the hell?"

"You might want to use scissors next time or move the spice to one side of the packet."

"You could have warned me."

"But where's the fun in that?" I shrugged.

"Mer-lin. Come onnn. What's next?"

"Take out the noodles and put them in the water."

He dropped the block of curly noodles into the pot with a splash.

"Oi! Watch it Arthur! You don't want to splash the water everywhere."

"Okay." He was oddly submissive. There was no snarky retort. Just submission.

We waited until the noodles were done before I grabbed two dishes and some forks. I dished out the noodles and handed it to Arthur.

We ate as Arthur asked questions at a mile a minute. I answered most of them. Some hit too close to home for me to answer honestly.

Arthur wandered around the town with me. I had suggested he get a job. Just a small one to help him adjust to the nuances of the modern city.

"What if you worked at the gym?" I suggested.

"What's a gym?"

It's like a place where you can train and exercise," I responded

He thought for a moment before nodding his approval. We walked into the gym and I helped him apply for a job before we headed home.


	6. Chapter 5

TW: self harm

"Morgana walked around the forest observing her surroundings. She could see the road beyond and the strange silver boxes called cars. She knew where Merlin's house was, she did, after all, spend the last week observing both him and Arthur. The whole situation, while aggravating, was rather humorous. Apparently Arthur hadn't felt the need to keep up with the times. Maybe if he had, he would have known just how much Merlin had been through. She did. And she knew exactly where to hit him to inflict the most pain.

No one was home as she peeked through the window. So she opened the door and crept in. Morgana wandered around the narrow halls of Merlin's house, familiarizing herself with her surroundings. Suddenly, the door squeaked. She spun around and ducked into a room. A closet. She peeked through the cracks and watched someone wander around, rummaging through drawers.

"Arthur? What is he doing?"

Arthur was taking things out of the drawer and turning them over in his hands, a practiced, careful movement. Among the items were a picture, a small wooden dragon, a stack of paper tied with string, a single metal cylinder-the modern world called these bullets, a chain with tags, and a gun. She knew what these were. She had watched the world fly by. Arthur, however, looked at the gun as he had the other objects. With curiosity, but little recognition. Suddenly, Arthur pulled out a bag with some sort of powder in it. Morgana almost laughed at how easy it would be to finally kill Emrys. He was already trying to do it on his own. Surely he wouldn't mind her aiding in it. Not that it mattered if he cared or not. Arthur eventually left the house and she was free to continue exploring. But she was done for the day. She left and looked for a suitable location to spy on the house

 **I was in my apartment. I had left Arthur to do his own thing and figure out whatever he needed to on his own. I was playing with a dagger, an assortment of weapons in the chest next to me. A thousand years of addictions doesn't just disappear. I rolled my sleeve up and cut into the flesh of my wrist.**

 **Blood welled up around the cut and dripped down my arm. I wiped the blood away and dug the blade in deeper, over the fading scars. My leg bounced up and down as the blade continued to dig. The pain grounded me, my dreamlike trance fading for a moment and reality setting in. I took a deep breath before beginning to clean out the wound. I wrapped my arm tightly in a bandage and rolled my sleeve down.**

Arthur opened the door wide as soon as I got home.

"Merlin!" he shouted, "Come quick! The tiny flame-less furnace is beeping!" He grabbed my arm tightly and I winced before I had the chance to stop it. Arthur stopped in his tracks and dammit. Of course he noticed.

"Are you okay?" Dammit. The one question I dreaded the most

"Yea. I'm fine. What's wrong with the microwave?"

"It's beeping. Is it going to explode?"

"No..." I sighed. Some things would never change.

"Okay. What's wrong with your arm?"

"Nothing, Arthur." I moved to continue to walk into the house.

"Oh no you don't. Give me your arm." Shit. I couldn't get out of this one.

"Arthur, it's fine. Leave me alone." He grabbed my arm before I had a chance to run into the house. We struggled for a moment but he had the upper hand. He yanked my sleeve up and stared at the bandages wrapped around my wrist.

"Merlin," his voice was dangerously low, warning me not to lie, "What is this?"

My arm. Wrapped in a bandage." This was shaky ground. In all my years spent with Arthur, I had never been in a situation like this.

"Merlin. Take the bandage off." He sounded like he was trying to calm a spooked horse.

"Make me." That was probably not the best move but I wasn't in the mood for anyone's pity. I had dealt with this for centuries, the drugs for decades. I was fine.

He dragged me into the house, sat me down and began unwrapping the bandages. I braced myself for the scolding that was about to take place.

"Dammit, Merlin! Where is this from?"

"... I'm just not gonna answer that..."

"Merlin, these aren't accidental. Did you do this?" Dammit.

"No. Obviously." Great job, Merlin. That doesn't sound like a lie...

"Merlin. You know you can trust me, right?"

"Can I really though? For five years, five years, Arthur, I hid my magic from you, only to have you react in anger towards me. In hatred. You died and left me alone! You left me alone for a thousand years! I was alone for years, with an empty promise and my last memory of you was you telling me not to change. Do you know how impossible that is for a thousand years?" I was sobbing now, hating the tears running down my face.

felt an arm around my back. Arthur pulled up a chair and his hand was rubbing circles on my back. I tried to leave only to have him pull me back down to the chair.

"Merlin, come on. You do know that I have to clean out your room, right?"/

"No. Don't. Please. I just want to sleep."

Surprisingly, he let me. He led me to the couch and I lay down. Scared of the dreams that would overtake my sleep.

Arthur walked back into Merlin's room and went straight to the drawers. He opened them up and removed the pocket knife, dagger, and any other strange item that he didn't recognize. He then began to rummage through the closet and bed sheets until he was satisfied with his search.


	7. Chapter 6

I was placing books on the selves when the door opening got my attention.

"Hello. Is there anything I can-" I stopped mid-sentence. Those bright green eyes. That black hair. The confidence radiating from her smooth gait.

"Morgana?" I asked.

"Who?" Maybe it wasn't her. Arthur returning must have really gotten to me.

"Sorry miss. I thought you were someone else. How can I help you today?" My cheeks flared with embarrassment.

Morgana left the shop with a smile on her face.

I walked home to find Arthur sitting at the door with his arms crossed.

"Where were you? I wake up to find the knives I took from your drawers gone and you missing! What the hell, Merlin?" Shit. I moved them back to the apartment.

"Arthur, calm down! Okay? I have a job. You know this. Relax. Okay? Yea, I took the knives but you had no right to go through my stuff."

"I had every right! You were slicing your wrists open! What if you cut too deep? What if you died?"

"I wouldn't have died," I whispered.

"And how do you know?!" Arthur shouted at me. Damn. I had hoped he wouldn't have heard.

"I've lived through hundreds of wars, dealt with thousands of injuries. I haven't died yet."

"Yet. You can't know for sure."

"Yea. I do."

"How?! How do you know that you won't die?"

"Because I've tried!" I shouted. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

"What?" Arthur grew silent, "What did you do?..."

"No. We're not discussing this."

"Merlin," his voice warned, "we have to discuss this."

"No. We don't. You can't force me to do anything."

Arthur sighed and walked back inside. I followed behind.

"Come here." Arthur motioned me over to the bathroom, "We gotta clean your cuts."

I decided against resisting. It took too much effort.

A noise woke me from my sleep. The door! I rolled out of bed and walked towards the front door.

A familiar face met me in the kitchen.

"Morgana," I stated coldly.

"Emrys," she responded with equal hate.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, while reaching backwards for one of the kitchen knives. I grabbed the knife and spun around to face her again.

She was gone.


	8. Chapter 7

She left the house swiftly, a cold smile resting on her lips. She had stayed, looking through the window to see Merlin's reaction. His confusion and panic was humorous. The steps were falling into place. It would be even easier to kill him as he no longer used magic. She wondered why, but it wasn't important. It just made her plan easier.

Sighing, I put the book back onto the cart. We really needed to get larger carts, or at least ones with wider shelves. Arthur had landed the job at the gym as a personal trainer and while I was happy for him, it was another step towards independence. He didn't need me. He was fine. He had a job, was learning how to navigate this "crazy messed up world" (to which I could only agree), and was now meeting new people who could help him better than I could.

The shop would be closing soon and I would have to go grab Arthur from the gym. He said he wanted to talk. I was not looking forwards to it.

Arthur was waiting outside as I walked over to the gym. We greeted each other and began walking home.

"Merlin, you have to tell me what's going on. I can't help you unless you let me," Arthur began. I knew that he was worried but honestly, it wasn't something he could help me with.

I was silent.

"Merlin, I want to help you. I really do. It hurts me to see you like this." Damn, Arthur. Really?

"I'm sorry I haven't been the best friend to you. I'm sorry that I've been too distracted to help you properly."

"It's not your fault," I mumbled.

"I know," damn it. I hoped he hadn't heard, "but you're my friend, and I care for you. Please, Merlin, you have to stop. Please. Talk to me Merlin." Arthur was begging (wow, Arthur begging?) and tears began forming at the corners of my eyes. We continued in silence for a little while. Arthur's hand had found its way to my back once more and was rubbing circles into it as we climbed the steps to the house.

"Merlin, go sit down," his voice was soft but commanding. "I'm gonna go search your room again." I didn't put up a fight.

Arthur came out again a few minutes with a few more knives I had "borrowed" from the kitchen, the gun, the bullet, and two bags of pills and white powder.

"Merlin, what is this?" Shit.

"Nothing important."

"So you wouldn't care if I did this?" He ran to the bathroom and dumped the contents of the bags into the bathroom. I jumped up and sprinted after him. Just a little bit too late.

"Damn it, Arthur! Why would you do that?" My anxiety spiked as he flushed the toilet.

"You said it wasn't important," he said innocently.

"That doesn't mean you flush it down the damn toilet!" How could he?

"You wouldn't react this way if you didn't care about it."

"Do you know what you've done?!" I shouted. "Do you realize what you've condemned me to?" He shook his head.

"A week of pain, and anxiety, and shaking, and nausea, and aches, and hallucinations! A week I'm going to have to take off from work!"

"What is that?" Arthur asked, concern flitting across his face.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Make me," was his retort.

"They're drugs," was all I could say.

"Why, Merlin?" he asked.

"I was alone for thousands of years. At first, the only form of relief I had was through pain. Until a few decades ago, drugs like these weren't common. I took any opportunity I could to forget my memories and feel happy again." Arthur was quiet now, sorrow and worry written across his face.

"Merlin, it's going to be hard, but you can't do this anymore."

"I know, Arthur. But what else am I supposed to do? I have a job I need to go to and I had other things to worry about."

The following week was utter hell. I could barely get out of bed, I was shaking, nauseous, anxious. I needed drugs. I needed to feel normal. When I finally did drag myself out of bed and to the toilet, I promptly threw up. I knew it was late. At least noon. Standing, or attempting to, I made my way to the phone.

"Don't bother." Arthur's voice startled me. He was standing in the kitchen making cereal? "I already called the shop and gym saying that we'd be out for at least this week." I groaned.

"Just go sit down," he said, "I'm making breakfast."

"But it's noon."

"Well, this is the only thing I can make that won't burn the house down." I crawled over to the couch, my arms and legs extremely sore at this point.

Arthur walked over to the couch and put the bowl of cereal on the coffee table.

"Arthur," I pleaded, "please. Why did you do this? Why did you make me go through this?" I was crying, sobbing. What was wrong with me?

Arthur said nothing and just sat there next to me, awkwardly rubbing my back.

This went on for a week before things finally began to feel better. I still felt like shit, but like better shit than the past week. I was shuffling around the house absolutely miserable.

Arthur had to lock up the knives.

But things began to get better and soon Arthur was walking with me around the house and to the bookstore. He didn't quite trust me enough to leave me alone, which was understandable, but it meant I couldn't go to my apartment. I had showed it to Arthur because he wanted to know if there was anywhere else he could store some extra stuff (how he had gotten more things to store was beyond me), but I was pretty sure he had cleared it out.

Months passed and there was no sign of Morgana.

 **AN: Also, this portrayal of drug withdrawal is less than accurate despite my research. It's not something I can write super accurately as I've never gone through it myself.**


	9. Chapter 8

Flashes of a dream appeared in her mind. Dark hair. She mumbled in her sleep, "No, don't leave me." Pale skin, slender fingers. A hand, outstretched. A blast of magic forcing her back. "NO!" Morgana woke with a shout. Her plan was slowing down. She couldn't get past the nightmares, let alone work on killing the source of them. 'Merlin,' she thought, 'my destiny and my doom. Why can't you just leave me in peace.'

Once, maybe, many years ago, she might have considered him her friend. She was fond of him, or had been. But he poisoned her, betrayed her, and lied to her. How could she move past that?

But his eyes, those, once, bright blue orbs, were so filled with pain throughout their interactions, dulled now today by the drugs and memories. He was helpless, she realized. Though an enemy of his she might be, she was not heartless. She couldn't just kill an already hopeless person. She didn't know what to do. It had been so easy, with Morgause, to brush off the looks of pain that were present, but her sister wasn't there to guide her anymore.

She was on her own.

I was pacing anxiously across the house.

"Merlin, stop it," Arthur whined.

"Why?" I snapped.

"It's annoying and you're making me dizzy just looking at you."

"Then don't look." The months between the week of utter hell and now were filled with dreams about Morgana. What did she want? How did she find me? What was her next move going to be? How was I going to keep Arthur safe?

But I couldn't tell Arthur. He had enough on his plate, what with his job, my habits, and the new rugby team he had found.

"Merlin, where are you?" This was Arthur's new way of asking if I was good, if I wanted to hurt myself, or if I was craving drugs.

"Fine." Obviously I wasn't fine but he knew that I would tell him if it was anything he needed to worry about. It had happened enough during the past few months for him to be sure of it.

"I know you're not, Merlin. What's got you worked up?"  
"Nothing important. Just stressed." He seemed to be satisfied and went back to watching the television.

I left and turned towards my room. I lay down on the floor and stared up at the ceiling fan.

What was I going to do?


	10. Chapter 9

It was Saturday night and neither of us had work tomorrow so I decided to show Arthur some classic movies, ones that everyone had to see. We were in the middle of The Lord of the Rings when the door creaked open. I shot up and went to go investigate. When I turned around, Morgana had a knife to Arthur's throat.

"Don't take another step, _Emrys_." She spat the name out and I flinched. How long had it been since I heard that name?

"Morgana, please, don't do this. What do you want?"

"What I want is your deaths. What I want, is a reason for everything you ever did to hurt me. _You lied to me, Merlin! You lied and poisoned me and killed me! Why?_ " she screamed.

"I had no choice. Everyone I talked to said that if you were to learn more about your magic you would only hurt Camelot. They told me that it wasn't a good idea to tell you about my magic. I didn't know what to do! When I poisoned you, it was because Camelot was in danger. I didn't want to. I wanted to find another way but there were none. Every single time, I had to act in the best interest for Camelot. I had to act in protection of Arthur, for the world he was destined to bring. I hated what I had to do to you but there was no other choice." I was pleading with her. Begging her to understand.

"Morgana," Arthur began to say, "I am so sorry for what I have done to you. I was ignorant, blinded by the teachings of my father. You never deserved any of this. I am sorry. If I could change the past I would. But I can't. I can only change myself. Please, give us the chance to prove it to you." When did Arthur get so wise?

Tears began to form in her eyes. "Why. Why did you never change? I needed someone there for me and Merlin left me, and you, Arthur, condemned me once you discovered my magic."

"I know. I was blinded by Uther's teachings and didn't know what to believe."

"Merlin. Help me."

I couldn't refuse.

Thoughts were racing through her mind. The apologies made sense. But was she ready to forgive? Could she forgive? She knew she wouldn't be able to forget.

Revenge was not forgotten. It was still there. She was just... Confused.

Could she use this? She could.

She could use their vulnerability.


	11. Chapter 10

Morgana followed me into the shop. She might as well get a job.

"Hello, Merlin," Cynthia greeted, "Who's your friend?"

"Hi, Cynthia. This is Morgana. She's new to the town." Cynthia walked over and shook Morgana's hand.

"What can I do for you guys today?"

"I was hoping that you could offer her a job. It's fine if you can't. You know how boring it gets to just stay home."

Cynthia, ever the kind soul, helped Morgana get set up and showed her around the small store. I continued to walk around, helping to clean up and organize the books.

* * *

At five, we began to close up shop and Morgana and I headed home. It was silent as we walked back to the house.

Arthur was home, making… Cereal?

"Arthur, I taught you how to make other things you know…"

"Yea, but those might burn the house down."

"I give up…"

* * *

Morgana lay in bed staring up at the ceiling.

" _Morgause, sister. I wish you were here. Now more than ever, I need your guidance."_ Back and forth and back and forth again, ideas ran through her mind: the necessary materials, plans to fall back on, poisons, knives, weapons, on and on the list went. _"Thank you, sister."_


	12. Chapter 11

I watched Morgana move down the aisle, shelving books as she went. Her dark, curly hair fell down her back and shone in the sunlight streaming in through the window. Shit. I didn't need feelings for anyone right now. She had her own things to worry about, and I had to worry about Arthur. What they both needed was to adjust to modern life. Sighing, I checked in and grabbed a cart to start shelving books as well.

She walked around the back part of the store taking inventory of the books. Her shift was almost over. Merlin's had just started. It was one of the few days in the week where her schedule was not the same. She finished up taking inventory and helping customers, and took the back door out.

Morgana walked down the street to the local nursery, list in hand. She grabbed a cart and pushed it around the store, looking for the things she would need. Henbane had the highest priority in the spell she was casting. Spotting the white flowers, she made her way over and picked up the small, potted bush and continued browsing as she picked up various plants: green hellebore with its familiar rounded, green petals; wormwood with its feathery leaves; hemlock with its small white flowers; and finally valerian with its thin leaves. When she was done, she continued to browse gathering up other flowers and seeds. Nothing extravagant, just enough to make her room remind her just a little bit more of her time with Morgause. When she was done, she paid and walked home.

It was dinner time and Arthur and I were cooking together. Morgana had come home with a few potted plants and was setting them up in her room, so for today, it was just me and Arthur.

I read out the instructions to Arthur and watched as he grabbed and mixed ingredients accordingly. He was getting better at working with the appliances, save for the occasional mishap or freak out. I mean, he'd come far from when he'd first arrived.

Morgana was setting up the materials she needed for the poultice. She cut a five stems from the henbane, the main component of her mixture. From her green hellebore, she plucked three flowers and a single stem from the wormwood. She had left her valerian out of the pot and cut off one of the larger roots. She would have loved to use mandrake as well but didn't want to risk Merlin hearing its scream. She placed all the ingredients into her bowl and began to mash them to a paste. Grabbing a cheese cloth, she spooned the thick mixture into the fabric and tied the top with string. Finally, she took a clump of flowers and leaves from the hemlock. Her eyes glowed as the juice extracted itself from the flowers and soaked itself into the cloth. Morgana left the pouch in the sun to dry and cleaned up her mess with a whisper.

It was quiet around the table as we ate. It was like that most days. We didn't have much to discuss as there wasn't really much left to talk about. I had discussed the fall of Camelot with Arthur and, later, Morgana but I couldn't discuss anything that happened later. They didn't need to know about it and I didn't want to talk about it. Truth be told, they also needed time to process everything that had happened since they arrived.

She watched Merlin slowly eat. Those pale, slender fingers, the mop of dark hair covering his blue eyes. God, how she longed to dull those eyes, to break those fingers.

The poultice was almost done. She just needed to enchant it and then place it under his pillow.

 _I miss you Morgause. Thank you for all you have taught me._


	13. Chapter 12

I woke up with a pounding headache. What had happened yesterday? Memories of blood and pain and death slowly began to trickle into my consciousness. Ah. So that's what. Probably drank myself stupid. Shit. I checked my door, it was still locked, and headed to the bathroom.

Arthur had just been dropped off at the gym and Morgana and I were busy in the store. We were having a sale just for a little bit as a way to try and get more people interested in the store. The majority of our customers were regulars and the numbers had slowly been dwindling. I tried to focus on the customers, not on Morgana, not on how tired I was, not on how much I wanted to go home and sleep eternity away, but no matter how hard I prayed to the Triple Goddess, I was just slowly retreating away, into my shell, away from the shop, away from the town, away from Morgana, away from Arthur, away from _everything._

Morgana was in her room while I read on the couch. Arthur was cooking. Not that I minded; if he wanted to cook, then he could. It's not like he was bad at it either. He was decent at it, and it was nice, for a change, to not have to force myself to cook. My stomach clenched at the thought of food. Maybe not today. I was getting nauseous just thinking about having to eat.

It was around four in the morning now and I still hadn't fallen asleep. I could hear soft breathing from the rooms next to me, signalling that the others were sleeping. But yet I still could _not fall asleep_. I rolled onto my side in frustration and looked at the wall, shutting my eyes.

I decided against that after memory after memory assaulted my vision. My mind raced with worry and fear. What would happen if the bookstore closed? Would Arthur be alright on his own? Would Morgana ever be able to forgive us? Maybe I should just cut. Just one more time. I hadn't done it in months and I was itching for the pain. I mean, I wouldn't go _too_ deep and it wasn't like I was _trying_ to kill myself. I just needed something to focus on. There was too much going on.

Ok. So I did cut. What's the big deal? It's not like anyone needed to know. And they _wouldn't_ know. The darkness was creeping up again and I had no idea why. I had been getting better, happier, less floaty, and more grounded. But now it was all rushing back. Maybe I really wasn't meant to ever feel _right_ again. I wouldn't be surprised. I was feeling under the weather lately too. Maybe I was just getting sick. I don't know. But I was regressing back to where I had been before Arthur and Morgana had arrived.

I really didn't know what to do.


	14. Chapter 13

It was Tuesday, the one day during the week where Morgana's shift was later than Merlin's. She opened the door to a _CRASH!_ She followed the noise to Merlin's room.

The door opened to a haunting sight. Merlin was on the ground screaming at Arthur who had him pinned to the ground. A knife was flung to the corner of the room. Arthur's hands were coated in blood. Merlin's blood.

"LET ME GO!" screamed Merlin. "WHY CAN'T YOU LET ME DO THIS!"

Arthur was silent, focused only on keeping Merlin down and away from the knife.

Morgana whispered a spell sending Arthur to one end of the room, Merlin to the other, and the knife to her hand. They stared at her in shock.

Well, Arthur did. Merlin was glaring at everyone in the room.

She freed Arthur from her spell and he nodded his thanks to Morgana before slowly making his way to Merlin.

He spoke softly, as if he was calming a spooked horse, "Merlin, I'm coming over. We need to clean you up. You have to let me do this."

Morgana interrupted, "He can't move. It's part of the spell. I'll release him when you're done."

Arthur moved quickly and soon, Merlin's arms were bandaged. Morgana released him from her spell, guilt and _jealousy?_ pooling in her gut.

 _Had her poultice done this?_ ' _Don't be ridiculous, Morgana,_ ' she thought, ' _Of course it did this. It did exactly what it was supposed to._ '

She wanted to be able to help him the way Arthur had. She missed the feeling of caring for someone and having someone care for her.

Morgana berated herself mentally. ' _Stay focused._ '

Arthur was working towards getting Merlin to calm down, gently leading him towards the bed. She remained frozen in the doorway, bloodied knife still in hand. _The poultice!_ She wanted to remove it needed to stay focused. She couldn't let _their_ deaths go unpunished.

But the as the scene in front of her unfolded, her heart ached. She watched Arthur gently tuck him in before softly pulling open drawers and opening cabinets looking for anything else dangerous.

Morgana left the room swiftly. She needed to put the knife back then take some time to think before she went back to get the poultice.

"Dammit," she heard him whisper, "He was making progress."

A/N: sorry for the short update guys. I really didn't know what to do with this chapter.


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